Strings
by Vanished Snowflake
Summary: When you pull the right strings, you turn your opponent into a puppet. Murders that arrive too early and Apollo artifacts that can't be found...Rachel struggles to understand the dreams the Oracle sends her. Only to find out she's one of the main victims.
1. Prologue

**A/N: As much as I wanted to make things vague and only unfold the mystery at the end, or at least, only explain to you the prologue in a later chapter, I think people are getting too confused by this. So, as the review-desperate me, here's a hint.**

_**This prologue is about the oracle.**_

**Yup. Go do your research now.**

* * *

><p><strong>Time period: Ancient Greece<strong>

Dark.

Wrapped in the soft, light blanket of the shadows, she fidgets and to a small degree, struggles to escape. She understands that she is safe, more than safe in the sweet careful cradle but the inability to see anything unnerves her slightly. There is nothing to see, nothing she needs to see. But she wants to see. She wants to explore the world she'd just stepped into.

Mother. She speaks, reaching out for the source of warmth that currently embraces her, the invisible force that held her hand tightly as she steadily walked into existence. She doesn't need sight as much as she needs her mother. She needs to know when she could take the next step and what step that was to be. She wants to know.

_Daughter._

She feels an instant connection with this voice, this young, lovely melody that flits around her ears and bonds with the earliest of her memories. This is my mother's voice, she tells herself. This is her. Mother.

Mother.

_You are not my only child, dear. But you are one of the special ones. Why don't you go outside and play, my love._

But what am I to do? She asks, What is my purpose?

_You're my gift to the world. Do what you do best._

And with that in mind, she closes her eyes and breaks free, a spiral of mist shooting towards the surface in exhilaration.

-o-

She can sense the fear in the girl, the fear and disgust at the scaly creature slithering around their new home. She can feel the girl's mouth turn down into a frown and the biting of the bottom lip that follows. She is aware of the girl scrunching up her pretty face into one of repulsion, a mask for hiding the horror of seeing the monster behind.

Oh how she wishes to turn the expression into something more welcoming, or perhaps make the girl wave to greet their new friend. Thank him for his service, let him know his protection is much appreciated.

_Hello, sister._

For a moment, she is stunned. She hadn't known it was possible to…

Hello?

_Hello._

And as the girl strides off to the room, swaying around in her long white dress, getting ready for her duties the next morning and completely oblivious to the conversation, she talks to the serpent via telepathy. She tries to make up for the girl's rude actions, having ignored their guardian entirely as she stormed inside the place.

_It was mother who sent me here to protect both of you, you know._

Thank you.

-o-

He's dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

No.

She realizes that the girl is smiling, close to laughing. The girl had always wanted the "hideous creature" dead. "A horrible snake! A monster!" She had complained. But it had protected them, ensured their safety. Now, it was-

Dead.

Her guardian, her friend, her brother. Gone. They'd spend every day talking to each other, smiling, joking, laughs that no one could hear. They'd become close, so close, him being a reminder of mother along with being very good company himself, despite the monstrous appearance.

But he was lost to the shadows now, the cold shadows, the heartless ones. And what was left? A foolish giggling girl and a sister who wanted him back, who yearned to grieve but couldn't because _someone_ wanted to smile at his death instead and she had no control over it. She cried on the inside, yes, but it hurt her to see how she couldn't change the girl's happiness into expression mirroring her own sorrow. The entrance to the girl's mind was blocked, as it always was until the right times and situations.

It wasn't fair.

_He's coming._

It's mother's voice, she cries and when the words register she wants to scream but she doesn't own a mouth. He's coming, he's coming, coming to get her. Run away run away run away-

But the foolish girl refuses to move, stubbornly staying put in the house burning alight with danger, eager to embrace the murderer instead.

And if she can't pull the girl away, she can't escape. But it's impossible to take over her now. It's not the right time and fate refused to hand her the chance. He's coming he's coming he's coming-

She can see him coming through the front door, can see what he's going to-

She cries out in terror but her silent screams cannot be heard by the girl, cannot be heard by anyone outside the stupid cage she's trapped in. The girl thinks he's a hero, a majestic hero riding on the capes of justice and bringing down his sword so rightfully into the brother's heart.

_You need to get out._

Instantly, she feels a burst of energy flowing through her and she realizes what mother has done. It hardly feels right – the time was far from right - but she does it anyway, knowing it was the only, only way she could escape. She spreads out the power throughout her being and then forces it into the girl and pulls her essence into hers.

And then he steps into the room.

Dashing towards the window, she nearly slips – it felt so weird to walk - and he grabs onto her skirt, pulling and twirling her towards him. She knows that many, including the girl, fancied him, fancied the way he looked, fancied the way he smiled, dreamt of guys looking just the way he did...The beauty of immortal youth…

But all she wanted to do was puke when she saw him, puke and stab the bloodstained hands of the killer and rip his black heart out.

"I know it's not her. It's you now, isn't it? " He asks and pulls her closer. She squirms, attempting a pathetic escape out of the cage of his strong arms but he refuses to budge.

"That monster out there relentlessly chased my mother for days." His eyes blazed like fiery suns, "Glad that there's actually a bonus to killing him…"

"You." He muttered and grabbed her, pushing himself against the outraged female and onto the bed, binding the two bodies together.

- End of Prologue –

**Reviews are very much appreciated. Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Time period: Current time **

The building was shrouded in the cloak of night; faint glow of streetlights making pathetic attempts at a fight for space against the dark shadows. It was silent, for once. No murmurs from intrigued adults, no chatter from young schoolchildren, no bored sighs from teenagers…Just the soft, uneven-sounding footsteps of a middle-aged security officer making his rounds.

_Ten more minutes…ten more minutes…_

He checked his watch for the exact timing. A night job was somewhat exhausting and he yearned for the change of shifts to arrive quicker. Countless CCTVs lined the ceiling of the museum interior, sending live feed to the screens in the security room but he doubted his partner was even awake. The new addition to the security department was terribly lazy and he was certain the younger officer was currently in slumberland riding pink unicorns. Fluffy pink unicorns.

_Shrr. Shrr._

He whirled around, pointing his torch at the source of the noise, the beam of light highlighting a circular piece of tarmac. There was no one there. But he'd definitely heard-

_Oof._

Tumbling onto the ground, the officer nearly performed a complete somersault (Imagine your dad attempting to be a gymnast. Ha.). All he saw was a blur of green and red before he landed hard on the cement and ended up facing the night sky decorated with its glowing lone pearl. In the middle of the quiet night, the sound of his fall was rather loud…though he was convinced there was something quieter hiding behind the product of his tumble…a sound quick and soft and sharp…something like a snap of a finger…

"Tell me again why we hire clumsy security guards?" A hoarse voice asked in an irritated tone.

Pushing himself into an upright position, the officer's eyes widened as they registered the hunched figure in front of him. It took him a few seconds before Common Sense climbed up his spine (It has been proven through many past experiences that Common Sense resides next to the human spleen, nowhere close to the mind) and whacked him in the brain. Scrambling to his feet, the officer hastily greeted the assistant curator.

"Mr…Mr. Brown. Good…good to see you back." The officer sucked in a deep breath, "Erm. What might you be doing here? During the wee hours of the morning? Oh, you know, in accordance to the security rules and all…I have to, erm, ask you and stuff and-"

"Would you please shut up?" Mr. Brown glared at him with piercing eyes and the officer swallowed, immediately silent.

"There's been an emergency and I need to check one of the artifacts, though I need you to give me your keys to the museum." He outstretched his wrinkled hand, "In my scurry out of the house, I forgot to take them with me. Be quick and fish them out of your grimy pocket."

At once, the officer took out his keys and handed it to the older man in the green suit. Not one part of him doubted what Mr. Brown had said. It was as if his mind was somewhat numb, the logical part of it not really awake, just like it would be if there was an invisible curtain separating his mind from thinking about anything other than what Mr. Brown had stated was true…A curtain, a veil, a cloud of mist…A cloud of mist with a green tinge…

"Darn." The assistant curator exclaimed before bursting into a string of curses. In his haste to open the door, the older man had smashed his fingers against the hard material and although he knew that he shouldn't be laughing, the officer couldn't help a small chuckle. The fingers were going to be very, very bruised the next morning, the colour of purple grapes (How did he know? Eh. Fingers extend out of your hand as if they're meant to be hit. Which is to say the officer had had plenty of past experience with the door and its dangers. No insurance received, though.). However, the death glare that followed seemed to tell him that if he laughed again, he was going to be fired. Or put on fire. The officer gulped and headed towards the entrance of the museum without another sound.

The thing was…if this had been Mr. Burton, the other curator, the officer might have been more suspicious of such behaviour. Who in the world wakes up at two in the morning to barge into the museum with the security man's keys, even if it were an emergency? Besides the whole brain-is-numb-logic-is-non-existent thing, another fact that kept the security officer from acknowledging that something was wrong with the situation was that Mr. Brown had always been very eccentric (along with very rude). Of course, that didn't explain why the assistant curator had remembered to put on a green _suit_ but not grab the museum keys, why said "emergency" had been conveyed to the hardly-ever-here assistant curator instead of Mr. Brown and definitely not why Mr. Brown had come back to Cleveland that night when he was supposed to be in Britain visiting family for two more weeks.

But something just told the officer that such questions were, well, hardly important… Just a couple of mindless little worries that were shoved to the very back of his numb mind.

Following behind Mr. Brown, the officer switched on the museum lights as his boss made his way to the section containing Greek artifacts. For a brief moment, Mr. Brown's grey hair looked green in the light, very green in fact…green like cat eyes…But when the officer blinked, the strands of hair returned to their usual colour.

_Weird._

For an old man, he moved considerably fast and the security man found himself having to brisk walk to catch up with the stiff figure. There was something about the way his shoulders looked and the way he moved that made the officer think Mr. Brown was very, very anxious to get to the artifact. Emergency, yes. But this was more of an if-I-don't-get-this-done-tonight-I'll-literally-be-dead sort of urgency. Something also told the officer that they were walking in small circles within the building, which kind of contradicted the whole "deadly emergency" situation, unless Mr. Brown really was so nervous as to forget where he himself had placed the artifacts?

"Here." Mr. Brown muttered under his breath, his voice layered with both tones of admiration and disgust as he looked up at the bronze statue. The officer stopped in his tracks as well, staring at the inanimate figure and realizing that he had no idea who it was supposed to be. Probably some random Greek hero. Naked, as usual.

To his surprise, the assistant curator suddenly stretched out his hand towards the figure, extending his thin fingers towards the bronze, inches away from making contact with the ancient artifact, seconds away from-

"Sir." The officer exclaimed. "Are you sure you should be touching it?"

Part of him regretted mentioning that for he knew exactly how strict and mean a boss Mr. Brown was. Turning around to face him, Mr. Brown glowered at the security officer, light brown eyes suddenly looking green under the silver tears of the moon (penetrating through the glass of the nearby window) and the dim museum lights. The eyes seemed to pierce into his soul. No, not his soul. His mind. His mind…

Whirling back to face the statue, the older man ignored the stunned figure beside him entirely as he stretched out towards the bronze again. Five inches away, four inches, three, two…

Nothing. _Nothing._

The assistant curator tried again, closing his eyes as he made contact with the statue of Apollo. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was no life within it, no essence, nothing yearning to break free of a cage…Nothing.

Making a beast-like growl at the back of his throat, the green-suited man swiveled around and punched the shocked officer, a force large enough to send him falling onto the ground. It wasn't exactly necessary, just a very painful product of utmost rage.

"Switch off the lights and lock the doors." He commanded and stormed out of the museum. The officer did as he was told, picking himself off the dusty floor and heading towards the light switches. When he turned back, Mr. Brown was gone, along with the officer's memories of that night's events.

-o-

A certain young security officer finally opened his eyes as he yawned loudly, waking up from his position on the security room's cluttered table. Glancing at the clock, he realized that it was time for his shift but since his partner (who he was quite sure hated his lazy guts) hadn't got back from his rounds yet…

_Wait. What's that?_

The security officer squinted at the television screen showing the live feed from the CCTVs in the museum. It looked like a girl. A teenage girl. What was she doing inside the museum? And why was the other security officer following or leading her inside?

_And why did the "black and white" live feed have a green tinge to it? Stupid, unreliable technology._

Before raising an alarm, the barely awake officer rubbed his tired eyes and squinted at the screen again. He groaned. There was no girl, just Mr. Brown. For some reason, Mr. Crazy Old Man had decided to enter the museum during the wee hours of the morning and his security partner had decided to follow him inside for who-knows-what reason.

_Oh well. Back to sleep._

-o-

When Rachel woke up the next morning, she fancied she felt even more tired than she had before she'd slept. _Stupid dreams, _She thought to herself. It wasn't the first time, of course. As the (virgin) vessel of the Oracle, her nights were plagued with weird dreams, dreams that told her stories of the past, illustrated current situations and gave her glimpses of the future.

Most importantly, it hindered her from a good night sleep.

Yawning, Rachel kicked off half of her blankets while still contemplating whether or not to make another attempt at reaching Slumberland. The dreams had taken up more than half of her sleep and as she sat there, drowsy-eyed, images of that night's dream flashed in her tired mind. She didn't remember everything but just enough of it to know that the dream wasn't exactly important. It was probably just another demigod/Greek figure who wanted another weird artifact for another weird reason and couldn't find it at said weird museum. Sometimes, she wished the Oracle could have filtered the visions, deciding which were important and which were not (she'd once dreamt of what her mom's shopping list would be like the next weekend), before giving her one.

Rubbing her green eyes, she let the memories of last night's dream flow freely in her mind for closer examination, just in case she was missing something worth informing Chiron. She saw a museum in her mind's eye and almost immediately, the whole sequence of events played out. There were certain parts that were hazy but Rachel managed to remember at least 80% of the vivid dream. She wasn't sure who the individual (she vaguely remembered the name Mr. Brown?) was nor looked like though, since this dream had taken place with her being _inside_ the figure. Her visions from the Oracle varied, some of which taking place with her having a bird-eye's view of the situation while some involved her being _inside_ one of the characters and seeing everything from his/her view. That night, she had seen everything from Mr. Brown's view. However, she recalled enough of the dream to know that that definitely was _not_ the real assistant curator and the person had just been using the Mist to fool the security officer, pretending to be dear old (crazy) Mr. Brown. However, she had no idea who the person really was and what the whole touch-the-naked-Apollo-statue thing was about. She doubted it really mattered though, not when there were more important things to tend to, like watching out for future moves of Gaia's army and what might happen to Percy and Annabeth as they made their way to Greece with the Roman demigods.

Stretching lazily, Rachel dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the restroom to change. It wasn't until her friend at Clarion Academy mentioned it that Rachel realized her fingers were bruised. Very bruised.

"They're the colour of purple grapes…" Amy exclaimed. "What did you do to them? Smash them against concrete?"

Rachel Elizabeth Dare found herself straining to remember a minor detail long forgotten as she stretched the fingers and looked curiously at the splatter of purple on the index and middle fingers. It was disturbing.


	3. Chapter 2

**I procrastinated enough...Here's Chapter 2 (or chapter 3, if you include the prologue). Part of this was written at 1am and it's pretty short. Sorry about that.**

"Rach! Finally! Gosh, you're late." He pretended to whack her as she came towards the group, grinning.

"Sorry." She apologised as she hugged her friends. "It took forever to get permission to leave the school, even if it's the summer break."

"Bet Mrs. Worthington gave you a hard time, eh?" Alice laughed and Rachel shook her head in mock sorrow, mouthing what looked like "you have no idea."

"Remember how I mentioned the previous time that I was certain she had dinosaur blood inside her? Well, I'm quite sure that her grandmum was the wicked witch of the west too. You should have seen her during biology...Shouting her head off at us and trying to teach us how to dissect hearts the right way. Bleah."

"Well, glad you're back anyway. So, decided if you're following us to the museum in Cleveland? It's gonna be epic, trust me." Richard asked, blue eyes twinkling as they always did when he talked about art museums.

"I for one prefer urban art but from what Rick says, it does seem quite interesting. Plus they have Greek artifacts. I thought you'd always loved Greek mythology." Ben added, simultaneously reminding everyone of her previous Greek obsession. Dreams of gorgons, she had told them, gorgons and snake women killing children barely their age. But just dreams.

Smiling a weak smile, Rachel replied, "Erm. Not too much now. And I'll really like to go with you guys but isn't Cleveland kind of far away?"

"Oh c'mon! Don't act like this is the first time we're doing something like that. What did Clarion Academy do to you? Don't tell me, there's a hidden electric collar underneath your hair? Nanobugs stuck in your brain? Or just the long rules of conduct?" Ben exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

Honestly, Rachel had nothing against the idea at all. In fact, going off to Cleveland was an enticing idea, better than staying in the Academy dorms or worse, at home with her mum, who insisted on going out with her fellow socialite friends and dragging Rachel along to meet the "prim and proper" bitches who apparently were their daughters. Not that that was much of a shocker. Rachel definitely preferred to play with their pet female poodles and chihuahuas than that. They had a bit more sense and a bit more dignity. I mean, hey, the dogs could fetch sticks and would occasionally refuse to wear shoes. Round of applause for them.

However, she'd just received half of a iris message from Chiron and she wasn't sure if agreeing to the trip would be such a good idea if she was needed at camp. They usually gave her one week of summer to do her own thing before asking of her to fulfil her duty as oracle at camp. It was only the second day of the long break. She didn't want to be all the way in Cleveland when disaster struck and they needed her. Or at least, the abilities of what she was hosting.

"Rachel, please? It wouldn't be as fun without you! I mean, Greek mythology! Aren't you going to listen to fate? We finally got free tickets...c'mon..." Alice pleaded.

Fate. Listen to fate. Well, she wasn't too sure what fate was telling her but she figured it would be better to clear things up at camp first. Maybe clear up her weird dreams too. They had arrived more often now, leading to her being barely awake in the morning.

"Sorry guys. But a one-day outing like today? Much needed. But a trip like this, erm, unfortunately time-consuming. This morning, my...camp instructor just, erm, called. It was interrupted half way but I think...camp's gonna start early this year. Or something. Sorry, guys. Sorry, Rick." She said, flashing an apologetic smile and then biting her lip.

"Oh well, on with today's plan then."

And as they went about with their crazy, attention-grabbing antics and collecting donations for another endangered species, Rachel wondered briefly what fate really had in store for her.

-o-

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare." He greeted and proceeded to help her get onto the chariot seat by gripping onto her arm and pulling her up, trying his best not to let the silver bracelet hanging loosely on her wrist fall off.

"Thanks." She said as she turned to grin at him, adjusting her bracelet as she shifted slightly to find a comfortable position. "Never did understand why chariot seats were so high, though. Will Solace, right? Son of Apollo?"

"Yup." He replied, flashing a quick smile that, unknown to him, immediately confirmed Rachel's guess of his Greek family history. She'd never really talked to a son of Apollo before but she sincerely hoped that they hadn't inherited all of Apollo's traits. Perhaps they were better poets, or at the least, hadn't inherited their father's weird need to read his poetry out loud and basically cause everyone within hearing radius to lose several brain cells. Well, she hoped so. After all, Will didn't seem like the egoistic type.

"So…How's things been going on at camp?" Rachel asked after a moment of awkward silence as the chariot flew over skyscrapers towards Camp Half-blood, under the strong flapping power of pegasi and the guidance of Will. The two didn't really know each other, having only exchanged a few words previously when Chiron had gathered the camp counselors and oracle together to discuss the problem of the giants. The other times they met basically involved meetings on war and the dire fate of the world. It wasn't exactly bonding time.

"It's only the beginning of summer so the kids are still making their way to camp. Some demigods like to spend the first week with their family, some rather stay at home and believe they're safe, some just come dashing to camp right after dismissal time on the last day of school." Will smirked, making Rachel really wonder how life was for different demigods and how their families actually dealt with the whole thing. She remembered Percy mentioning something about Annabeth's family not wanting her.

More awkward silence.

It wasn't really like her, honestly. She wouldn't say she talked non-stop but Rachel had to admit she was generally quite talkative. Perhaps it was the disappointment of not being able to go out with her friends (the real ones, not those proud girls at Clarion Academy) to Cleveland. She'd sort of been waiting eagerly for that trip, until the whole "Percy and Annabeth and the rest of them might be in danger in Greece" thing decided to pop up.

"Erm…Hope you don't mind me asking and all…but why is Chiron asking for you to come to camp now? I mean, you usually come one week after summer starts." Will asked, cocking his head to one side and looking at Rachel.

"Oh. Well, he IM-ed me this afternoon, saying something about two demigods having the same dream about Jason and Annabeth's group meeting a lot of trouble at Greece. Chiron's considering sending them and possibly a couple of others on a quest but he wants me to give them a prophecy first. For guidance, I guess." Rachel laughed, "Not that I think the 4 to 6 lines of rhyming mumbo-jumbo would really help a lot. And I'm guessing it's not going to be a secret any longer so it'll probably be okay if I tell you now."

Will chuckled, "Nah, I think prophecies do help, to some extent. Sure, it takes some time to understand the whole thing but once you do, it's kind of like, instructions, don't you think? Like, you should do this and do that if you don't want to end up dead or rotting in some pit waiting for a whole group of monsters to slaughter you and tear out your guts. I'm definitely under the impression that that's helpful."

Rachel laughed again, " Yeah, I guess you're right. But don't you sometimes find it sort of weird that everything had already been planned out, all your actions, all your choices, the people you would kill and the people you would spare. The prophecy basically just tells you all that you will do in the future and in the end, it turns out ot be right. It kind of leaves you feeling like you had no choice in the matter whatsoever…"

"'Cos everything was already planned? Maybe. But that's only if you choose to follow the prophecy, right? And I bet we'll one day find a prophecy that doesn't turn out to be true." Will said.

"For a guy who's dad is the god of prophecies, you sure don't believe in them a lot." Rachel said, raising one eyebrow.

"I just like feeling that we have a choice in everything. That there isn't anyone who truly and fully knows what's coming up next…"

Looking at Rachel's slightly puzzled look as the chariot landed lightly outside Camp Half-Blood, Will smirked and added on to his previous sentence, "Yup, not even the oracle."

**If things go as planned, the above conversation would probably be of importance near the end. **

**Reviews are appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 3

"Hello, Rachel." Chiron greeted and smiled warmly at the red-haired teen strolling towards him, looking somewhat confused at the lack of people around camp. There were only 3 Apollo kids at the archery range, a couple of Hermes kids fooling around in the volleyball courts (_And this, newbies, is how you fill a volleyball with paint and thin out the rubber...It's our cabin's chief duty to add colour to the camp, after all) _and two Ares kids battling it out in the arena with even more colourful words. Perhaps there were a few more carrying out activities in the other areas of camp or hiding in their cabins but Rachel still found the camp surprisingly empty, even though Will had already mentioned that to her during the chariot ride. When she came during the second week of summer, Camp Half-blood was usually buzzing with activity and filled with demigods from all walks of life. Either the other demigods were coming later (after, say, some dumb, crazy plan of a monster-free vacation) or Annabeth had wanted all the back-up she could get for the quest to Greece (and saving Percy, of course). Which was probably true, considering how this was the first time Rachel had really seen the Daughter of Athena break down and cry.

"Hi Chiron." Rachel grinned and then waved at the two demigods sitting next to him in the Big House. They looked about 14 years old, a blonde girl and a ginger-haired boy. The girl looked shaken while the boy appeared as if he hadn't had any sleep for the past 2 days. Needless to say, neither of them waved back.

"Hello, Will. Thank you for agreeing to pick up Rachel, even though I hadn't explained to you why we were in such urgent need of the oracle." Chiron said as he turned his focus towards the guy trailing behind Rachel, then raised an eyebrow, "Though, knowing her, I'm quite sure she's already told you why.

"Hey, I'm the oracle! I predict things," Rachel protested, "Like how you were going to tell him anyway..."

"Especially after making him Chauffeur Of The Day and all," Travis Stoll chuckled as he walked past the Big House alongside his brother, having heard the conversation, "For the, say, hundredth time. Do you driver guys get a good dental plan? 'Cos they must have enticed you into the job some way or another."

Will rolled his eyes, looking more amused than offended by the apparent insult. Then again, the Stoll brothers' entire lower bodies were covered in pink and purple paint and it was hilarious enough a scene to make the dazed-looking boy sitting next to Chiron grin slightly.

"Jealous, much?" Katie Gardner snickered as she strolled part Travis, with the comment actually managing to make him blush.

"Why in the world would I be-"

"Oh, because you totally feel man enough without a ride and absolutely don't sleeptalk about chariots like a jealous, green-eyed little boy," Connor interrupted, grinning at his brother's discomfort.

"Dude, you're supposed to be on my side!" Travis complained, then wiped his hand all over his pink trousers and smeared the paint onto the back of Connor's head. They then proceeded to chase each other around camp, muttering Greek cuss words and basically just being the fools that they were, though now with lots of wet paint to fling around.

So, Annabeth had gotten them to stay at camp on purpose. Figures.

"I wonder what cool artwork I'll get if I made them chase each around on a huge canvas sheet instead…" Rachel spoke her thoughts out loud, remembering the art enthusiasts friends she'd said goodbye to not too long ago.

"What?" Will turned towards Rachel, curious.

"Oh yeah, you're kinda speaking to an Art-freak right now," Rachel grinned.

"Actually, I think I already figured that out," Will smiled back and pointed towards Rachel's shirt, the words "paintbrushes _pwn_ pens and swords" printed in bold across the cotton, "I was more wondering about how much they were gonna make you pay for the labour."

"Good point." The camp's oracle laughed.

"Rachel," Chiron called and both of them swirled around from watching the Stoll brothers to face the centaur, "Would you mind giving Alex and Claire the prophecy now? If their dreams were indeed true, it spells disaster for the quest group in Greece."

Rachel headed towards the demigods and took a seat opposite them, first making sure that the chair had good backing and was rather wide. She didn't want to slip off the seat once the oracle's spirit took over and then sprout the prophecy while sprawled out on the floor, giving out green mist like the dry ice equipment which sometimes lined concert stages and puffed out white smoke to signal the celebrity's entrance.

No freaking way was she going to humiliate herself like that again.

"So…how do you want to-"

"Oracle of Delphi…Wh-what is my prophecy?" The girl looked up and spoke in a shaky, hesitant voice, as if absolutely terrified of the answer.

Rachel saw a blast of green light before she fell into the darkness.

_"I am the Priestess of Delphi...speaker of prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python..."_

-o-

When she regained consciousness, Rachel found herself curled up on her bed at camp, which was located, of course, at the "oracle cave" (Apollo and his weird ideas…). As her eyes flitted open, Rachel wondered briefly why she'd never suggested to Chiron that all tell-me-my-prophecy things take place in her room at Camp Half-Blood, specifically her bed. It sure beat blacking out in some random place around camp and then being dragged back into her room later by some poor demigods.

Managing her hair into a neater ponytail (if her frizzy hair could ever be considered neat), Rachel pulled away the purple curtain and stepped outside. She was shocked to discover that it was already dark. Will had brought her to camp in the evening, when the sun had still been hanging in the sky, shining bright, showering light and luckily not burning anybody up (though she'd already gotten sunburned while parading around the city with her friends at noon, in a protest against the destruction of the Kirtland Warbler's natural home). However, it was already nighttime and she could even see the slowly growing flames of the campfire not too far away.

_How in the…_

Immediately glancing towards her watch, Rachel discovered that it had taken around half an hour for her to regain consciousness. Sure, she was still getting used to the whole oracle gig but this was much longer than all the other times. She usually took 5-10 minutes to wake up, at the most 15 minutes if she was really exhausted that day.

It was somewhat unnerving.

Her thoughts were then interrupted by the soft growl of her stomach. Brisk walking towards the dining hall, Rachel found out that Chiron wasn't there. Then again, she wondered whether or not Chiron would have been able to help her anyway. Although he indeed knew a lot of things, oracles and their virgin vessels just wasn't something he was familiar with. After all, he'd sent May Castellan into the attic to receive the Oracle of Delphi and practically turned her-

Rachel winced. She'd had a dream about that incident before. She wasn't really in the mood to relive the horror through her memories again, especially since she had actually experienced the scene through May Castellan's character in the dream. She had seen the thoughts, felt the fear…

In all, she could safely say that no matter how much Percy complained, her dreams were a lot worse. Confusing, too. Museum curator imposters looking around for artifacts and punching security officers? Seriously? What had that been about?

"Hey, Rachel." Connor Stoll called as she headed towards where he was standing, both of them planning on getting their food.

"Hi, Connor. Say, where's your brother? I mean, I always see you two together, even after lame paintball fights." Rachel asked.

Connor directed his look towards the Demeter table, a mischievous grin appearing on his face as Rachel's eyes widened at the sight of a flustered Travis Stoll apparently trying to talk to Katie Gardner without irritating her.

"Wow." Rachel mouthed.

"I know. Weird." Connor chuckled, as he handed her a plate and then moved off to get his own food.

Standing in the middle of the dining hall after obtaining her dinner, Rachel decided that she rather sit with one of the cabins, considering how Chiron was nowhere to be seen and the only one left at the head table was a grumpy-looking (like that was a surprise) Dionysus. The only cabins with people were the Hermes cabin, the Demeter cabin, the Ares cabin and the Apollo cabin. Most of the demigods were young kids from 8-12 years old, probably left behind by Annabeth due to their lack of experience. Excluding the young ones, it was pretty much just the Stoll brothers, Katie and her friends, a tough-looking Ares guy named Dan, Will Solace and two to three people whose names she didn't know. She wondered why Will and Dan hadn't followed the group to Greece, considering how they were really good fighters and how Will was apparently also a healer.

Making her way towards where the Apollo cabin sat (After a quick elimination game, she decided she was far from interested in getting involved in the weird Katie and Travis thing going on by sitting with either cabin and eating dinner with the Ares guys was basically suicide), she briefly took note of the other daughters and sons of the olympian. There were four of them, three boys and one girl, excluding Will. Looking at their age, it kind of seemed as if Will was dealing with a babysitter job.

"Mind if I sit here?" Rachel asked and received a nod and small smile from Will, signaling his approval.

"Hi. Who are you?" One of the younger kids asked, a boy of probably 8 years old who had the same blonde, sun-kissed hair Will and Apollo had.

"She's the oracle, Tony." Will explained, a tiny smile playing along his lips.

"Oh. What do you do?" The boy asked again, eyes wide and curious.

"I give prophecies," Rachel grinned, "I tell you what's going to happen in the future, what you should do to stay alive, what you shouldn't do to stay alive, who you're going to marry, what's going to appear on next Thursday's science test, whether or not that guy in the soap opera's gonna propose in the following episode…"

"Whether Tony's going to ask another dumb question…" The boy on her left snickered.

"What's a soap opera about?" Tony asked, ignoring his half-brother.

"Singing soap." Will answered with a straight face, making Rachel laugh when Tony actually looked up at Will and nodded in understanding.

They weren't exactly friends yet and Rachel knew being with her was a bit awkward for Will, considering how they were still somewhat strangers but part of her actually liked putting herself in awkward situations and then challenging herself to make them less awkward. She never avoided people just because she wasn't close to them or didn't really know them. Except for the socialites her mother hanged out with, of course.

Dinner turned out to be quite fun, in the end. Tony kept asking all sorts of questions and hence kept the conversation alive at their table. She also got to know the other demigods a bit more and although they were much younger than her, it was still rather interesting to talk to them. They all had a similar appearance- majority of them had blond hair and blue eyes like their dad, though with varying shades of gold and blue- but they had very different personalities. Tara, the girl, was really mature for her age, though she didn't talk a lot. Brian basically liked to fool around and joke, Keith was very quiet but opened up when Rachel started talking about animals and Tony was, well, very inquisitive. About everything. From the stars to the moon to the reason behind Rachel's initials spelling out "RED". She wasn't too sure how to answer that one, nor the question on whether or not all the prophecies she made came true. (Will laughed at that question, still stubbornly sticking to his belief that everyone had a choice at their fate. Which was actually a rather nice, positive belief, she figured.) Before they returned to their cabin at the end of dinner, Tara asked Rachel whether or not she wanted to meet them at the archery range the next day, since she didn't have much to do around camp. Without much thought, Rachel agreed and when she entered her "cave" that night to go to sleep (gosh, she felt like a bat), she told herself that the whole regaining-conscious-after-half-an-hour problem could wait till morning. After all, she hadn't been able to find Chiron at the Big House either. She also mentally put up a post-it in a corner of her brain, reminding herself to ask Will exactly what prophecy she had told the two demigods, in private the next day.

Of course, judging by the amount of sleep she actually managed to get in between the dreams, it wouldn't have been a surprise if the post-it spontaneously combusted into a pile of ashes when she woke up as a braindead zombie.

**Thanks for reading! Please review. :D (If you would be so kind, please do tell me what you think Rachel should be like. I'm scared of making her OOC.)**


	5. Chapter 4

_It was cold and dark, the only light coming from a small spot in the ceiling, shining a single beam of light onto a statue. She couldn't see what statue it was. It was too dark for that and she was too far away. But the place…The place felt familiar. She couldn't see her surroundings but she could feel them. She'd been there before._

_Taking hesitant steps, she moved towards the statue, the sound of her shoes clicking against the floor stabbing through the eerie silence. She shivered, freezing and somewhat afraid of the unknown. As she got closer, she could sort of make out the face on the statue and the funny parting of the stone hair. The statue was well sculptured, though missing both arms and naked, not that that really surprised her. Her guts told her it was a Greek artifact, most likely a Greek god. Looking up at the face, which was tilted downwards as if to look at her, Rachel recognized it. It wasn't an accurate portrayal of the Olympian himself but she knew who that was. And she knew where she'd seen it before._

_She bent down and blew the dust away from the placard. _Apollo Sauroktonos.

_She was correct._

_Standing up again, Rachel looked at the way his face had been carved. It hardly looked like the Apollo she knew but she could still pick up a slight resemblance. Moreover, this was the statue she had dreamt of the other night, the one the curator's imposter had been looking for, the one that mysterious person had touched before turning around to punch the security guard, the one that had probably been meant to answer his or her question but had failed to._

_The one that was breaking apart now._

_Rachel stifled a cry of shock and took a quick step backwards as deep cracks began to form on the statue, shattering the beauty of the art piece as dust fell and metal and stone separated from their allocated positions. It looked as if an earthquake had taken place on the surface of the statue, cracks overlapping more cracks and broken, detached pieces hitting the ground and dissolving into dust. An eerie feeling crept up Rachel's spine. Something, something bad was going to happen._

_A snakehead burst through the stone, out of where the statue's right eye was supposed to be, replacing it with its own two menacing-looking ones._

_It slithered towards the ground, the cracking surface on which it moved having no effect on it. Rachel moved backwards in caution but the snake stopped when it touched the floor. And then Rachel looked up and knew why._

_Thousands other snakes were currently bursting through the cracks of the statue, brown snakes, black snakes, red snakes, all with beady eyes that seemed to pierce into her soul when she looked at them. Soon, all that was left of the beautiful statue was dust and a pile of scaly creatures, slithering over each other, some still, some attempting to get closer to her, some staring at her, just staring and staring..._

_Rachel knew she had to get out but something told her she had to watch and though she tried to run away, her legs couldn't move, held to the ground by an invisible force. It hurt when she tried to escape, though she tried regardless._ Let me go! _She cried, desperate._

You have to watch. _And the menacing laugh echoed throughout the room and swept her breath away, took it away, wrenched it away, stole it._

_The snakes seemed to be more orderly now, having spread away from their messed up pile. Their movements were less sudden, slithering slowly to wherever they felt they had to go. Rachel took a quick look at all of them, turning her head from left to right, as if ordered to by the same voice that haunted the room with its now silent presence. She noticed another creature on her right, a hideous, lumpy creature which looked even scarier than the snakes…And then she realized what they were doing._

_One by one, the scaly creatures were merging with each other. One would slither towards the creature on its right and with a sudden force, it was would be…sucked into the other. It was as if each snake had sat next to a mirror and when forced to slid away from admiring itself, it had brought along its distorted reflection with it, attached to its flesh. Three eyes, two bodies mashed together into one skin. And the creatures just kept doing that, over and over again, two bodies, four bodies, hundred, thousand…Merging with each other to form a gruesome-looking long serpent, beady eyes scattered messily all over its flesh, with majority forming two main visual organs for the final creature, staring and piercing into her mind and soul._

Remember me, sister? _The hot breath whispered and the front features of the creature moved jerkily, changing its appearance for a brief movement. It was gruesome, bloodthirsty smile._

_Rachel screamed. _

-o-

She woke up with such a start, she nearly fell off her bed. Rachel frantically swept her gaze around her room and was relieved to see the interior of her oracle cave. Her nightmare had been so real.

Walking on shaky feet towards her sink, Rachel splashed her face with cold water, though she was already more awake than anything else. That hadn't been a normal dream and she knew it. It wasn't a fragment of her own imagination, like most human dreams were. That had been a message or a vision, sent by the oracle or some other force. Rachel could remember every aspect of the nightmare, every gruesome image imprinted into her brain. Everything except her sudden realization at the end. When the creature had spoke, she had immediately known who or what it was but only for that flash of a moment. And then gone, the memory had been pulled away as she was forced into darkness and her eyes flitted open later to the ceiling of her room at Camp Half-Blood.

What in the world had that creature been?

-o-

"Duck!" Keith cried out and every one of them, even Will, crouched down as the arrow flew through the air like the flying projectile of a blind general who didn't even know he was shooting a enchilada instead of a missile. Or vice versa. Somehow, her arrow managed to impede the nearest tree instead of someone's head.

"C'mon! I'm not _that_ bad!" Rachel protested as she plucked the arrow out of the tree. She still hadn't been able to find Chiron that morning so she'd spent the time distracting herself from the nightmare with archery. Though apparently her archery skills, or lack thereof, had become the Apollo kids' nightmare instead.

"You nearly decapitated me last now!" Brian protested back and grabbed his bow off the ground, along with the tree bark - that Rachel had somehow sliced off with a previous shot - that he was using as a makeshift shield.

"Why do you shoot so bad, Rachel?" Tony asked, innocent. Keith laughed.

"Hey, it's not like I've ever done this before…"Rachel muttered as she shot another arrow. It fell towards the ground before getting anywhere near the archery board.

"Keep the bow steady, Rachel." Tara advised from her spot beside her, notching an arrow and sending it flying. It hit the ring around the bull's eye.

Rachel shook her head and laughed, "Nope. I am so not going to get this."

Will chuckled from behind her, busy getting more arrows, "It's called practice. I assure you, it took me the longest time to master archery."

"Right." Rachel rolled her eyes as Will got into position and then shot three bull's eyes. "Show-off."

Will strolled towards her and she handed him her bow. "You have to hold it like this," Will said, as he demonstrated for the fifth time, "And you have to keep it like that, even when you release the arrow."

Rachel sighed as she tried again, "Remind me why I'm still doing this? You guys have Olympian blood in you and your dad is the god of archery. How's that fair? Every one of you is a born, natural archer."

Will raised an eyebrow, "It's not that simple."

"Sure, it isn't." Rachel said sarcastically, grinning as her arrow nearly hit the largest ring on the board.

"Yeah, whatever." Will muttered and turned away, heading back to his own set of bow and arrows. Rachel picked up a distinct tone of bitterness in his voice and quickly whirled around, catching his expression before he blanked it out and walked away. His blue eyes had been dark and his expression bitter yet distant, as if remembering something painful or awful. Dropping her bow on the ground, Rachel ran after him.

"Wait, did I say something wr-"

"Will!" Someone shouted and each one of them whirled around to see a flustered Timothy, son of Hermes, rushing towards them.

"You're needed in the infirmary. Bill did something stupid." Timothy told Will, in between heavy panting. He'd just joined some time ago and wasn't very fit yet, Rachel figured.

"Again?" Will asked and it sounded as if the camp's unofficial healer was actually complaining.

"Well, what do you think? He's Bill." Timothy rolled his eyes and then ran back to wherever he came from, signaling for Will to follow. His half-siblings also sprinted after him and Rachel figured that she had had enough of archery anyway, leaving the arrows and pierced tree barks behind as she ran after them.

-o-

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Timothy snorted, looking at his friend who was slumped pathetically on the bed.

"Dude, you're in here for moral support. If you're just going to insult me, go away." Bill muttered and then winced as Will applied something to his wound, rubbing the pale paste over burnt flesh.

"Timothy's right. The first time you did it, you got hurt. The second time you did it, you got hurt. So what in the world were you expecting of the third time?" Will asked him sarcastically, without looking up from the big patch of burnt leg he was currently trying to heal.

Bill cursed and grumbled, "So much for solace, Solace."

"Dumbest joke I've ever heard out of a bill, Bill." Timothy snickered.

Will, ignoring both fools, muttered a few Greek words and the wounds instantly looked less red and raw The skin surrounding the wounds also seemed to grow a bit, slowly covering the gaping holes in the demigod's flesh. Wrapping a bandage around both wounds, Will slumped back, looking a bit pale while Tara silently handed Bill a glass of nectar.

Rachel and the others sat on the cool floor of the infirmary, not really knowing what to do. Keith, though she didn't mention it out loud, actually looked moderately sick at the sight of the blood and charred flesh. Rachel couldn't say she was feeling any different, though. She wasn't the type to faint at seeing bloody wounds but observing a boy who practically burned the whole of his left arm and leg wasn't the easiest thing to do. The flesh was not only red but also charred black at certain parts. She wasn't sure what had actually happened to Bill but she was surprised that he had wanted to do that same thing three times, though mostly shocked at his stupidity. Did demigods not know or feel pain?

"Just…don't do it again, okay, Bill?" Will said as he stood up, smiling weakly at the younger demigod. The son of Apollo looked less pale, though still somewhat exhausted.

Walking out of the room while pushing a nauseous-looking Keith out as well, the rest followed behind Will. Taking one last glance at Bill, bandaged but surprisingly looking much better than when they'd first seen him, Rachel headed out of the infirmary, wondering about the suicidal tendencies of demigods.

"You guys were supposed to continue practicing your archery skills, why did you all follow me in?" Will asked his half-siblings as they strolled towards the arena, fighting being next in their camp schedule, "Especially you, Keith. You already know you can't take it."

Keith shrugged, "Everybody else was rushing after you. I just followed. I didn't think Bill burnt himself again."

"Pfft. I know!" Brian laughed, "Which dumbass would try pulling a prank in the forge thrice?"

"So you're saying that's how he got burnt?" Rachel asked, trying not to laugh, "Attempting to pull a prank in the forge? Are you serious?"

"That's Bill for you, Rachel." Tara grinned.

Will chortled, "He's the future Travis Stoll. Just more suicidal."

With the image of Bill's wounds still fresh in her mind, Rachel knew it was mean to laugh but the thought of someone doing something that stupid was just hilarious, in a sadistic way, of course. She laughed anyway.

Reaching the arena, Rachel told them that she wouldn't be joining them. As much as she found it rather fun to see the demigods swordfight, she hadn't forgotten her nightmare. She doubted she would forget it any time soon, really.

"Will." Rachel called out to him. The other Apollo kids had already entered the arena and were preparing for their fighting practice.

Will whirled around, "Yeah?"

"What happened yesterday? You know, the prophecy." Rachel asked.

"Oh. I don't remember exactly but it was something about the others being caged or something. You- I mean, the oracle mentioned the need for help from "other kind". That's why Alex, Claire and Chiron aren't around now. They're busy trying to get the centaurs to help, I think." Will replied.

Rachel's eyes widened, "Chiron's not here?"

"Have you seen him?" Will raised an eyebrow.

"No but…Nevermind. Thanks. Have fun fighting." Rachel grinned, though Will noticed how she seemed rather unnerved by Chiron's absence.

"Okaaaay then." Will waved and walked into the arena, "Bye."

"Bye." Rachel smiled and then muttered to herself when he was gone, "Now what?"

**Please review. Thank you :) Please tell me if the story flows or not, if the characters are IC or OOC etc.**


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